A Wiseguy and a Psychiatrist Walk Into a Bar
by tswsots
Summary: Jennifer Melfi leaves her son's wedding bitter and disgusted. In a hotel bar, she runs into the only person who can cheer her up - a patient she hasn't seen in four years. Dr. Melfi/Tony.
1. Chapter 1

Jennifer Melfi brushed away a few tears as Jason and his new wife, Samhita, left the parking lot under a shower of rice. Mostly, she was relieved. Things had gone off without any major hitches, despite the fact that the bride's mother had gotten into a dispute with the photographer – he was taking too many pictures of the bride's second cousin, a professional model, and too few of the bride – and things had taken an ugly turn. Melfi felt grateful to have had a son. She could have born the pressures of being the mother of the bride, all while being polite to her ex-husband Richard's new, much younger girlfriend, if she'd absolutely had to, but the thought of staying behind, now, at the end of a very long day, to supervise cleanup, would have put her over the edge. She scanned the room, trying to decide if she could really make her escape without drawing attention or criticism from her new in-laws. Samhita's mother, Bandhavi was engrossed in a conversation with the caterers about how best to remove the stains from her antique table cloth. Bandhavi's husband Vijay was on the patio with a group of smokers. Richard and Colleen – incredibly, this one really _was _named Colleen – were eating a slice of cake off of the same plate.

_Fucking Irish slut_, Melfi thought, shocking herself a little. Fuck it. Others would do what needed to be done. She was going back to the hotel bar to get drunk.

Twenty minutes later, she chose an out-of-the-way booth, from which she could watch the door, sat, and drank deeply from a glass of red wine. She was finishing her second glass (not counting what she had drunk at the reception) when some instinct found her sitting straighter and sliding further into the booth and out of view. A split second later, she saw a familiar, hulking shape lumber through the door. Tony Soprano. In the flesh. It had been four years since the last time she had seen him – the day she had taken Elliot's advice and broken off their therapy for good, uncomfortable with the idea that she was enabling a sociopath, and as fed up with Anthony's rationalizations, half-truths and meaningless apologies as she was with his racism, sexism, and criminal activity. She had missed him, though, if only because of all her patients, he was the one who had made her laugh. And it bothered her to think that he must still believe she had stopped seeing him because of some silly beef about a torn up magazine.

She watched him curiously. He was wearing an irrepressible grin, and walking with a spring in his step. She found herself smiling, too. He looked thinner than the last time she had seen him. She finished her wine. A white-haired gentleman at the bar had stood up when Tony entered the room, and now Tony had joined him and the two were embracing. They spoke for several minutes. Over the music and talk that filled the room, Melfi couldn't hear anything that was said. At length, the two men shook hands, and the older man gathered his coat and left. Tony remained seated at the bar, puffing on a cigar and smiling to himself.

Almost before she knew what she was doing, Melfi sidled up to the bar and stood scant yards away from Tony – a little behind him and to his left. She caught the eye of the bartender – a smug-looking, thirty-something man with plucked eyebrows – and said loudly, holding out her glass, "The same again, please."

Tony Soprano's head jerked around as if pulled by a string. Melfi smiled at him.

"Hello, Anthony," she said, taking a seat at the bar stool next to his. "Nice to see you again."


	2. Chapter 2

Tony Soprano felt like he had the world by the balls. The Canadian he had come upstate to meet had agreed to do the hit on Joey D'Agostino, and as he enjoyed the mingling tastes of his drink and cigar, Tony was congratulating himself on his shrewdness in farming out the job – there was little likelihood of the hit being traced back to Jersey, and that was how Tony wanted it. Business was good, in spite of the recession. Stimulus money was providing new opportunities for scams, and those poor suckers who had lost their jobs or homes were drowning their sorrows at the Bing or hoping to get lucky at cards. Meadow was dating an anesthesiologist who was already earning a six figure salary. And AJ, living on his parents' money while he interned at a film studio in Los Angeles, seemed at least to be staying out of trouble. For the moment, it was a joy to participate in the suffering of the world.

"The same again, please."

Tony nearly choked on his drink. Dr. Melfi? Here? Now?

She sat next to him, crossing her legs, leaning her elbow easily on the counter, and tilting her face up towards him. She smelled like wine and perfume. She looked – not great, honestly. She looked tired, and older than the last time he'd seen her. But her bare legs were dangling inches from his own. She was smiling. And her voice, as she said _Nice to see you again_, was making him crazy. At this moment, he wanted her as much as he had ever wanted any woman. He felt like a teenager. He smiled goofily at her.

"Jesus, where'd you come from?" he said. "Scared me half to death. You're lucky you don't have to give me the Heimlich maneuver, the amount of ice I just swallowed."

"I'm sorry. I was sitting over there –" she gestured. "I saw you come in."

"Wait a minute," he said, "you've been watching me?"

She shrugged, and he thought she blushed slightly, but it was difficult to see in the light. "You look good," she said. "How are you?"

"Honestly?" he said. "Pretty damn good. I just settled a piece of business. I guess you saw." She nodded. "You know me," he said jokingly. "Smart like a fox."

"Yes, I do know you," she said.

Suddenly suspicious, of what he didn't know, Tony said, "So what are you doing all the way up here? Don't you work in Jersey no more? 'Cause I almost called your office a couple of times a while back…"

"Oh, yeah?" she said.

"Yeah. What if I'd been in crisis trying to reach you?"

"I still work in New Jersey, Anthony. My son got married today. I came up for the wedding."

"Oh. Well that's nice. Good for him. Felicitations."

"Thank you," she said.

He reached for his wallet and pulled out a fat roll of bills. "Here. Give him that. Wedding present."

"You've never even met Jason," Dr. Melfi pointed out. "I can't possibly take that."

"Why not? You're not my doctor anymore. There wouldn't be any breach of ethics or nothing now. You fired me as a patient, remember?"

"I remember," she said. "And you're right, there wouldn't be any breach of ethics."

He watched her as she thought a minute.

"I'll tell you what," she said. "Keep your money. But buy me a drink."


	3. Chapter 3

**_Wow, I write really slowly. I'm so impressed with writers who just crank out pages. Folks, I'm really happy to see that some people are reading this story, but I'd love to see a few reviews - even critical ones. I have no idea if this is any goo__d. Also, it's rated M because it *is* headed in a smutty direction. I just haven't gotten there yet._**

Melfi knew she had had too much. She also knew why she was behaving irresponsibly and flirting, pardon the pun, with disaster: because she wanted to get back at Richard. What could possibly upset Richard more (if he only knew) than the idea of his on-again-off-again wife of many years getting drunk with a man like Tony Soprano – a Mafia boss, ergo, an Italian American who gave Italian Americans a bad name, and a tough guy next to whom Richard felt insecure and insignificant.

But okay, if she was perfectly honest, this wasn't just about Richard. She had a certain chemistry with Anthony. There was a sympathy between them that never quite evaporated, even when he repulsed her. He was easy to be with. Likable. Sexy.

God, she must be drunk.

Her knee touched his. She didn't move it. After a moment, Tony moved his knee. He shot her a glance to see if she had noticed the contact, and their eyes locked.

Melfi looked away after a moment.

"How's your wife?" she asked.

Tony turned his face away, and she couldn't tell whether he was disappointed or relieved that the moment had passed. Which did she want him to be?

"Carm?" Tony said. "Things are good. You know. The usual."

She waited, and he continued.

"Although, she's obsessed with wanting Meadow to get married. Won't stop talking about it. Wants grandkids. It's unbelievable, these kids. They're walking around in diapers one day, the next they're buying houses, getting married…" he gestured toward her.

"It's amazing," she agreed. She laughed. "To think _I_ could be somebody's grandma soon. I mean, Jesus Christ."

"That's fucking insane. You're too sexy to be somebody's grandma," Tony said.

"You think?" she said. It came out wrong. She'd meant to say it lightly, humorously. Instead it sounded like a serious question. A plea for approval.

Tony's eyes ran up and down her body. His look was appreciative. "I always said you had a killer body," he said.

She leaned in a little. "You also said I was drop dead beautiful."

Tony squinted at her, confused.

"Are you, uh…?" he shifted uncomfortably. "Look, there was a time in the past when I wanted you very much. And I'm not saying who was at fault; let's just say…Well, we both know what was said on the subject. But you said some things – made some remarks – that were very hurtful to me."

She just looked at him.

"Are you coming onto me?" he said.

She didn't know what to say, so she said, "I'm drunk."

Tony absorbed that. Eventually he said, "My nephew Christopher. He's in AA. So I know something about what alcohol does to the body. And I can tell you right now that a drunk person will not probably do anything that they wouldn't probably do when they were sober."

"Probably," she said. She stood up. "Listen, Anthony. I've had a very long day and I'm not thinking straight. I think I'm going to go back to my room."

"I'll walk with you," Tony said. He said it without getting up. It was an offer, one he clearly did not expect her to take him up on.

But she said, "Okay."


	4. Chapter 4

Tony had had no other thought in his head for the last half hour but the idea of getting lucky with his shrink. It was an idea that had kept him awake nights many times in the last twelve years. But not until this moment did it dawn on him that tonight he truly had a shot. A long shot, maybe. He knew the signs well enough to know the lady was conflicted. But a shot nonetheless.

"Don't blow this, Ton'," he thought.

He got up from the counter and followed Dr. Melfi. She looked over her shoulder once and smiled at him. He watched her walk from behind. Her curvy hips and curvier ass swayed subtly.

As they exited the bar and entered the dim hotel hallway en route to the elevator, Dr. Melfi's heel came up against the edge of the thick carpet and she stumbled. In one stride, Tony closed the distance between them. He reached across her back and put a gentle, supporting hand on her elbow.

They walked to the elevator. Once inside, Tony let go. He felt enormous in the enclosed metal space. His palms were sweating.

"What floor?" he asked.

"Eight."

"My lucky number." Jesus, what was he talking about? He didn't even have a lucky number. "Get it together," he coached himself under his breath.

They were standing so close together. He knew he should be making a move, but he was stuck. What had always seemed natural before, with any other woman, now seemed nuts. What was he supposed to do, grab her? Pull her in for a kiss? Suppose she brushed him off? What then? He watched the little circle of orange light near the ceiling move from the number two to three to four.

"Shit," she said suddenly.

"What?"

"My earring." She tugged her earlobe. "It must have fallen off."

"So we'll go look for it."

"Nah. Forget it," she said.

The elevator wavered, and then came to a gentle halt. The doors opened, and they stepped into another hallway, lit by sconces.

"What's it look like?" Tony said. "The, uh, thing. The earring." He gestured toward her ear.

"It looks like the other one, silly," Dr. Melfi said, her hand going automatically to her other earlobe.

Without thinking, Tony reached out and brushed the fingers of her hand with his. He cupped her ear in his hand and nudged the lobe forward so he could see the earring. He leaned in. It was a dainty thing, silver on one side and gold on the other. Then, because his hand was already there, he stroked her cheek. She gave a little sound that might have been a sigh or a hum. He tilted her face upward and kissed her. Then he reached out and removed her glasses. He didn't feel shy now. Not in the least. Tony Soprano had never in his life kissed anyone _shyly_.

* * *

The last time Tony had kissed her, Melfi had very nearly lost control. She had stopped him in time with an insistent, tight-lipped "Don't do that."

Last time, she had reined in her physical impulses by force of will. This time, the rational being caved even before she felt her body start to surrender.

"Don't kid yourself, Jen," she thought. "You knew what you were doing from the second you took that seat next to him at the bar. You're doing this for all the wrong reasons, but what the Hell? You're doing it."

Her internal struggle over, she devoted her attention to kissing him back. He was pushing her up against the wall, and she was hanging onto the lapels of his sport coat. The material felt expensive.

After a few breathless minutes, the elevator dinged and the door opened again. A fastidiously dressed man with a brief case got out and gave them an offended look. Something about him – his glasses, probably – reminded Melfi of her therapist, Elliot, and she broke away from Tony and started to giggle.

"What's funny?" Tony asked, grinning and chucking her under the chin.

She shook her head, and started digging around in her purse for her key card.

Tony started planting a row of little plucking kisses along her jawline.

"Stop it, Anthony. Stop distracting me," she said, not meaning it even a little. "Here it is." She held up the key card. "It's…" she squinted and searched in the air with her finger "… that one. 807." She pulled him by his shirt sleeve toward the right door and slid the card into its slot.

She jiggled the door handle, swore, and tried the card again. The door clicked, the handle gave, and they barged into the room.


	5. Chapter 5

_**Someone asked me for an update recently, so I thought I'd better come up with one. This is it: the smutty part.**_

Inside it was dark, and Tony's enormous hands were everywhere. Melfi was laughing and moving toward the bed. She shed her suit jacket and dropped it on a chair.

Without warning, he scooped her up in his arms. Taken by surprise, Melfi inadvertently swung her leg out. Her high-heeled shoe flew off and glanced off Tony's shoulder before falling to the ground.

"Hey!" he said, looking with stupefaction at the spot where the shoe had hit him. He reminded Melfi of some great beast looking around confusedly after being stung by a bee, and she laughed harder than before.

Recovering, he grinned back at her. "Oh, so you think that's funny, huh?" he said, depositing her on top of the bed with a bounce.

She nodded, and reached out for him, saying, "Come here, you."

Tony hovered over her, kissing her face, neck, and throat, while she busied herself with undoing the buttons of his shirt. Once his chest was revealed, massive and heaving, she buried her fingers in its thick dark hair.

He had already loosened his belt and undone his zipper. Wrapping her legs around his, she rubbed her bare feet up against his pants, working them down around his thighs. He was at work on her blouse, now, and his hot heavy mouth on her chest, just above her bra, was making her tremble. His expert fingers undid the bra's clasp, and her ample breasts spilled out from its cups. He paused for part of a second to run his eyes over her half naked form. Then he smiled at her. She smiled back – hot, wet, and ready.

"Okay, Doc?" he said, implicitly asking her permission to – well, to fuck her brains out.

"Yes," she said quickly, reaching up to pull his head back down toward her chest. He took her breast in his mouth, causing her to gasp with pleasure and relief. He undid her pants, and the last few articles of their clothing fell away in an instant.

* * *

Dr. Melfi was so soft. Tony couldn't get over how soft she was. Her legs, her breasts, her cheeks, her belly – he touched them over and over, and was rewarded by hearing her sharp intake of breath each time he moved his hands.

She, meanwhile, was anything but passive. She was wrapping her long legs around his waist, pulling him downward, forcing his rigid dick closer and closer to her center. Tony was holding off entering her for as long as he could. Now that his wildest fantasy had come true, he was afraid it would be over too quickly. But he could hardly stand it.

Clearly frustrated with him for waiting too long, Dr. Melfi yanked at the hair on his chest. Tony let out a low moan, and, as her hips bucked upward, he sank deep inside of her. They cried out in unison. Lifting himself with his arms, Tony eased up, and then plunged downward again. He established a slow, steady rhythm.

But Dr. Melfi protested. Her breath came raggedly as she tried to form the words. "More – oh, God, Anthony – faster – more, faster!" She began to push on his chest with all her might. She was strong, but she couldn't begin to shift Tony's great weight. It took him a moment to understand what she wanted, but when he did, he complied readily: he rolled over onto his back, so that she was straddling all his bulk.

Dr. Melfi now controlled the pace of their interaction, and she sped up the rhythm until they were in a frenzy. He came scant seconds before she did, and as he lay back panting, she slid off of his shaft and slithered forward to rest her head on his chest. He kissed the side of her head tenderly, and ran his hands up and down her impossibly soft form. After a moment, she sat up and repositioned herself, ready to begin again.


End file.
